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The Aliens Hate Us Because We Killed Jesus

Well, I have words. They go like this. I get that, for a lot of people, “the unknown” all live down the same hall in their head. If not Zeus, why not aliens? But I actually find aliens kind of boring. I assume they exist. I assume they’re probably not interacting with us. If they are, it’s weird and cool, but it wouldn’t fuck me up.

But, for me, there’s a continuum with things I know don’t exist–like vampires–on one end–and things I’m not sure exist–like gods–at the other that I know, with my whole being, are ways we have of trying to make sense of the inexplicable. (Imagine it like this. You know you live in a house with windows. You don’t know for sure what’s outside your house, only that you both can see there’s stuff out there and you have a strong sense that what you see through your windows is not the full totality of what’s outside your house. Now, imagine that you start to see things out there and you want to somehow capture an image of them to show your friends, so you can all talk about what you see out there, beyond the house. Now, say that you, for some reason, decide to draw on the window in butter what you’re seeing. So, there’s the trick of remembering that you’re rendering in two dimensions what you’re seeing in three. And remembering that your finger in butter isn’t a great medium. And, when the sun warms the glass, things are going to slip and slid. And you might not be that great an artist in the first place. etc. And then it’s not you who’s going to look at your window paintings–it’s your kids and grand kids and great grandkids. So, clearly, you saw something out the window. I’m chalking vampires up to mostly butter-smear. I think your blond-haired blue-eyed Jesus is not quite right, but I’m sure you saw something human-like that moved you. We’re all grasping to try to find a language to explain what we’re seeing out there.) And I find the hallway down which that continuum lives to be extraordinarily interesting.

In my own psychic landscape, though, aliens don’t live down that hall. And I really hate when that’s the explanation behind things. I mean, I find the Bermuda Triangle a lot more compelling than Area 51, because Area 51 involves a certain truth that’s being kept from us by a conspiracy and the Bermuda Triangle… well, who can even say if that’s a real thing? I prefer mysterious and unclear to grand conspiracies. I guess in part because I don’t believe that people are good at keeping secrets.

Anyway, so I strongly dislike the Alien Jesus theory, no matter how much Ridley Scott thinks it’s too on the nose. To me, it’s too halls that go different places being forced into one.

Well, like i said before, my biggest problem with Prometheus is that, in the other Aliens movies, the viewer is asked to sympathize with the person or people caught up in circumstances so large they can’t quite be grasped, put into play by forces that won’t come clean to them, and who are trying to do the right thing in those circumstances. Prometheus seems not to have know where its own heart was.

I think that same story, with all the same nonsense in place, could have been compelling from the perspective of one of the three crew members who suicide out at the end in order to protect the world.

I’m trying very hard to learn that lesson–no matter how good and interesting you think your premise is, you still need to tell your story around the person/people with the most at stake in it.

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